


We Don't Eat Until Your Father's At The Table

by BandraK



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Homophobia, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, extra bacon, implied homosexuality (quinn)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandraK/pseuds/BandraK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based (loosely) off of the amazing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmP8lc8HiRE">fan-vid</a> of the same name created by the oh so amazing <a href="http://rin-says.tumblr.com/">rin-says</a> that has, since discovering it, been on near constant repeat on my computer (yes, still). A series of small vignettes from Quinn's life covering her child hood (5-ish) to just after the end of Season 1 and the roll her relationship with her father (and to a lesser extent, mother) played in her life.</p><p>I'm sure others can do a better job of this and I might take another crack at it myself but for now, this will do as I needed to get it out of my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Eat Until Your Father's At The Table

Lucy glanced at the grandfather clock standing against the far wall of the living room, her little legs kicking slowly as she sat waiting on the edge of the couch with her hands folded neatly over the soft pink dress she wore — a new one she and her mother had picked up earlier that day and one she couldn't wait to show off to her Father when he finally got home. Maybe then he'd say she was as pretty as her big sister.

Her stomach rumbled and she turned to look at her mother.

“You know the rules, dear. We don't eat until your Father's at the table.”

Lucy rubbed her stomach with one hand as she nodded, then went back to watching the clock.

* * *

“Lucy, say grace.”

“Quinn, Dear.”

“I don't know why you're encouraging her with this nonsense.” Russell growled.

Quinn looked over at her mother out of the corner of her eye to see her look down at her lap without saying another word.

“Lucy!”

“Lord, we thank you for this food we are about to receive...”

* * *

“It's not right.”

Quinn looked up from the book she was reading at the sound of her Father's voice as it echoed through the open door of her bedroom and felt herself tense. Clearly the Parent/Teacher conference had not gone over well. She closed her book as her mother's voice -- much fainter than her father's, too faint to make out -- drifted up the stairs and as quietly as she could, tiptoed over to her door.

“How dare they let a pair of deviants like that into a school, let alone adopt some child.”

“I thought they were a rather nice couple.”

Quinn tensed again as the silence grew longer, only releasing the breath she hadn't known she was holding when her Father spoke.

“That's what they want you to think. It's how they operate, make you think they're just like everybody else, nice and normal instead of the perverted deviants they are.”

Quinn eased her head halfway through the doorway, ears strained to pick up her mother's quiet, “Yes Dear.”

“It's wrong, I tell you, and if I had anything to say about it I'd have them run out of town.”

Quinn ducked back into her room as her Father's voice grew closer, her book open and resting on her stretched out legs as her parents passed by her doorway, neither giving her a second glance. “I've half a mind to call Child services before they can corrupt that poor girl. Half a mind, I tell you.”

“Yes Dear.” Quinn heard before the door to her Parent's bedroom closed behind them.

* * *

“It's bad enough I had to get a call at work telling me my daughter was some sort of hooligan, but I had to leave an important meeting to come get you because your mother's off visiting her sister instead of being here to look after you kids.” Russell grumbled — not for the first time since he'd arrived in the principals office — as they stepped through the front door. “What were you thinking?”

“I-”

“You weren't. You want to throw away your future picking on some nobody girl, you think anyone's going to want to marry a high-school drop out or a convicted felon? You think I want to have to tell people my daughter's a disgrace? Is that what you want?”

“No-”

“You better have a damn good reason for this sort of behaviour, young lady. Not that it's going to change your punishment any.”

Quinn nodded, her eyes downcast, hands folded against her stomach. She had a reason when she'd done it. When she'd seen Her walking past in her short skirt and ugly sweater that wasn't as ugly as it should have been, as it would have been on anyone else. When she'd turned to follow her. When her hand had tightened on her slushie glass and her arm had pulled back. She'd had a reason then.

Now it just seemed so... wrong. 

“Well? You think I don't have better things to do than waste my time standing around here waiting to hear your excuses?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean-”

“What the hell were you thinking!”

Quinn swallowed, only just stopping her shoulders from hunching forward — a proper young lady never hunched or slouched. “I... She's the girl with two dads.”

After several seconds of silence, Quinn peeked up from beneath the veil of her hair.

“And you think that makes it better? You think that makes me proud of you?”

Quinn swallowed.

“Because it does. Russell placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Only way to teach them the error of their ways, Quinn, it's our responsibility as good Christians to lead these people back to the way of the right and righteous.”

A small smile pulled at Quinn's mouth and her head tilted up a little more.

“Just don't get caught next time.” Russell smiled back, “And maybe we can knock a week or two off that grounding. You still wanted to try out for the cheerios, right?”

* * *

“But she's cute.”

Santana arched an eyebrow. “Did you just say what I think you just said?”

“C'mon, San. She's cute. She's got nice hair and nice legs and a really pretty smile and she's so small and adorable I just want to put her in my pocket. And sometimes, when I get lost between classes, I go by the auditorium and she's in there singing and she has a really really nice voice. Even nicer than her legs.”

Santana tilted her head to the side as she joined Brittany in watching the petite brunette standing at her locker further down the hallway.

“She's not cute, she's a freak. Just like her parents.” Quinn cut in as she stepped between the two, her hands resting on her hips as she glared at the object of their mutual focus.

“But-”

“No buts, Britt. She deserves this.”

“Why?”

Santana folded her arms over her chest as she turned to Quinn.

“Because she said mean things about Coach.”

Britt's face scrunched in outrage. “She did.”

“Yup.” Quinn snatched a slushie from a passing student, a glare quickly silencing his protest and sending him scurrying away. “And that's why you're going to throw this in her face. For Coach.”

Britt looked at the cup, then back down the hallway, then at the cup again. “Mean things?”

“ _Very_ mean.” Quinn assured her.

“Not that I've got any problem with any of this, Q,” Santana said as she watched Britt make her way down the hall while pulling her pony tail tighter, “but what's the real reason we're going after this nobody.”

Quinn turned her head to face Santana.

“Because I said so.”

* * *

Quinn sat back in her chair as she watched the another of the numerous videos posted on Rachel's Myspace page. She did have a nice voice.

And she was cute.

Quinn sat up and shot a look towards her bedroom door. Letting out a breath, she turned back to her computer.

_You sound like your strangling a sick cat. Nobody wants to hear you or see you so go back to the mutant test tube you came from._

* * *

She didn't love him.

She liked him. He was simple, simple to be with, simple to talk to — so simple she often had to take her vocabulary down several notches unless she wanted to spend half of their conversation explaining what she meant.

Mostly he was simple to control and that made him safe. Unlike some of the other jocks. Ones with too little hair and the sort of bad boy attitude that every girl was supposed be drawn to. Every girl but her.

Her father would never approve of that sort of boy and while Finn might not break any academic records or even get out of Lima, he was clean cut, respectful, eager to please, and a rising star on the high-school football team.

Just like her Father had been. And that made him an easy sell. It made everything... simple.

She liked simple.

She didn't love him.

* * *

Quinn stared at the sketch on the wall of the stall, then down at the marker in her hand. 

She'd done it again. Why did she keep doing this? It was bad enough when it was just in her notebooks but now it was emblazoned across the wall for anyone to see. 

There had to be some way to fix this. Someway to keep anyone from finding out what she'd done. To stop them from calling her Father. 

Quinn licked her thumb and rubbed at the bold black lines, the friction between flesh and painted metal produced nothing but a high pitched squeak and enough heat to sting her. 

_Dammit_

Quinn rubbed her thumb against her thigh a she glared at the drawing. There had to be... 

Quinn looked down at her pen, them back up at the drawing. 

If she couldn't get rid of it... 

* * *

"Oh God. What the hell are you two doing?"

Santana jerked away from Brittany, the back of her hand dragged roughly across her mouth. "Q, what are you-"

"Don't 'Q' me. Do you have any idea how wrong that is? How sick?"

"Kissing?" Britt asked, her eyes slipping back and forth between her friends as she tried to figure out why Quinn was so upset.

"Q, relax. It's nothing." Santana glanced over at Brittany, her face drawn tight in guilt for a heartbeat before she turned back. "It's not like we've gone lesbo or anything. You know Guys get off on this, right. And aren't you the one always saying how it's all about the teasing?"

"This is not what I meant and you know it." Quinn replied, her words terse and sharp. "How long has this... this..."

"Kissing?" Britt offered again, still not sure why Quinn was acting the way she was. She and San had been doing this for months and it always left her feeling all tingly in the best way. "Did you want to joi-"

"No!" Quinn snapped, her head whipping around to face the other blonde only to flinch when she saw Brittany recoil.

"Britt-" Quinn pulled her lower lip between her teeth guiltily before dropping her hands to her side. "Britt, I'm sorry it's just... You aren't supposed to do this sort of thing with other girls." Quinn turned her head to look at Santana, a shadow of her earlier glare returning. "Even if Boys like it."

"And what if I like it?"

Quinn swallowed before she turned back to Britt. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip again, again to stop herself from saying the first thing that came to her mind.

_What does it feel like?_

"Look... just, just don't get caught. So long as nobody every finds out, it's okay."

"Okay." Brittany replied, hooking her pinkie with Santana as a smile returned to her face. "And if you ever want to-" She stopped to look down at her hand as Santana gave it a hard tug. By the time she looked back up, Quinn was gone.

* * *

She shouldn't be here. She didn't even know why she was. She didn't like him, not more than Finn. He wasn't sweet. He wasn't respectful. He wasn't simple. Even if all he wanted was simple. No strings. No pretending. 

No one would ever know. 

No one but her. Her and Puck.

Not even Finn would know. And even if he did find out, what was one more little lie on top of the big one she was already telling him. Telling everybody every time they kissed or held hands or acted like he was the one she wanted when she didn't even know what she wanted. When she knew it wasn't him. Not forever. Not even now, really. He was an accessory. Something she could pull out of the closet when she needed to to complete her image. The image of the perfect little daughter with the perfect boyfriend and the perfect fairy tale high-school romance. 

If only...

She wouldn't be here if she hadn't seen Her eyeing Finn in the hallway. Again. 

She shouldn't be here. 

"I should go. 

"Aww, C'mon Q. One more cooler can't hurt and I promise I'll take you home after." 

* * *

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be, it just couldn't.

One night. One stupid night and One too many wine coolers couldn't be allowed to ruin her life like this. Everything she'd worked so hard for, the respect, the prestige. Everything, gone.

Everything but the-

Her Father was going to kill her. There had to be someway to fix this. Something she could do to salvage something. To keep her Father from hating her forever.

Her stomach knotted at the thought that passed through her head.

Finn...

Could she? Could she do that to him. Would he even believe her?

What was she even thinking. Of course he would believe her. The boy was completely clueless and practically worshiped her on top of that. She had him wrapped around her finger so tight he was practically tied up into a knot.

... or a wedding band ...

Puck might be a problem but she could handle him if she had too. Hell she was doing him a favour, God knew he'd never want anything to do with this anyway. Why tie himself down to her and a- a baby when he could keep on going blissfully from girl to girl.

She rubbed her hand across her stomach as the knot tightened.

She had to do it. Her dad might not be happy about it but if she had someone who was willing to take responsibility for her and the- the baby he'd still love her, right? He couldn't hate her completely if she wasn't a complete disgrace, right?

Or maybe he could. Maybe it would be better if she just got rid of it, gave it up for adoption. Yes, that was better, right. If there was no- no baby for people to look at, to see what she'd done than it was almost like it never happened. He couldn't hate her for something that never happened.

Could he?

* * *

He could.

He could hate her.

He could hate her completely.

Disappointment. That's what he's called her.

Unrecognizable. That's what he saw when he looked at her.

When he looked at her at all.

And her mother...

God. What was she doing. What had she done. Finn was in love with her, really in love with her, His Mother was giving her a place to stay now that- that her parents had- had- had...

Oh God. How many lives was she going to ruin? How many had she already ruined?

Quinn looked down at her stomach.

At least there was one life she wouldn't ruin.

* * *

Rachel. It was bad enough that she'd spilled the beans to Finn about Puck being the real father. Bad enough that she was with Finn now. Quinn could hate her for that. But now she was...

She was...

Why her? Why did it have to be her? Anyone but Her. She couldn't take Rachel being nice, being understanding, being apologetic. Not after everything Quinn had done to her, said to her. Not after using her.

Not when she...

... hated herself. Hated what she'd become trying to please a man that hated her. That only loved her so long as she was what _he_ wanted her to be. Think how _he_ wanted her to think.

Feel how _he_ wanted her to feel...

Anyone but Her.

Please God, anyone but Rachel

* * *

She left him.

She actually left him. Her mom had left her father.

Not just left him, kicked him out. Because he'd cheated on her with some 'tattooed' freak.”

It stung that she hadn't left him for her but it was a start. And knowing that her father was no less a disgrace than she was... than he said she was helped.

If only it had happened sooner. At least her Mom had been there for her- for Beth's birth. At least Quinn had gotten to hold her daughter. She got to be there for her daughter. Just once.

Maybe once was enough. Maybe the when or the why wasn't important, just that she was there for her.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven't touched your food.” Judy nodded towards the untouched paper plate of take sitting on her daughter's lap. “Did... do you want to talk?”

Quinn looked from her mother to the grandfather clock standing against the far wall of the living room, then down at her plate.

“Maybe later.” Quinn stabbed her fork into the pile of Ceaser salad — extra bacon — and brought it to her mouth. “Right now, I want to eat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Published: 17 06 2016 (17th, June)
> 
> Just in case the links don't work:
> 
> The Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmP8lc8HiRE
> 
> Rin-Says Tumblr: http://rin-says.tumblr.com
> 
> Revised: 17 06 2016 (17th, June) - Moderate editorial changes
> 
> Tweaked a few lines in existing scenes and added a few new scenes (pre-pregnancy). This is what I get for posting the same day I wrote it.  
> Stupid slow brain.
> 
> Oh, and just in case anyone out there is wondering (or more likely, offended) I do not believe all Christians are homophobic and I don't intended to paint them as such. I'm not even sure Russell is (though I wouldn't be surprised). It is, however, a very big part of my Quinn head-canon that a large part of the reason she never 'came out of the closet' (because she is totally gay for Rachel if not in general, I don't care what the show says) is in large part to do with her fear of her parents reaction — both before and after baby-gate — and a large part of that fear lay in a very strict, very antiquated view of 'Christian Morals' held by Russell.


End file.
